The rain, you couldn't stand it. It was too familiar, too close. He was gone, gone and probably never coming back.
You begged him. You made him swear to come home safe. The war obviously, had other plans. The call came early in the morning two months ago. You had been alone then too.
"Hello," the caller had rasped. " Is this Ludwig's wife?
"Who are you," you asked, feeling the fear crawling into your voice. " What's happened?"
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but Ludwig has been pronounced MIA."
Those words had stopped you cold. You spent most of your time either in bed or at work. The sleep and work kept your mind off the fact that your husband was missing overseas. It was like a physical ache had manifested itself inside you. You couldn't even think about him without melting into a puddle of tears. Any food that you ate came right up. You were in hell and you weren't even dead. You wished you were.
What good was life if you couldn't spend it with Luddy? His strong arms kept you safe, and you lived to see the smile in his blue eyes. Where was it now?
You moaned in pain as another wave of nausea hit you hard. Sweat beaded down your face as you emptied your stomach for the fifth time that morning. The unthinkable had happened. You were pregnant.
After finding out, Ludwig's brother Gilbert came over every day to help you out. He kept you distracted with jokes or prank calls to some guy named Arthur. Sometimes he could make you laugh, other times he reminded you of the husband who wasn't here. Mostly, it helped. Days turned into weeks and before you knew it, you were eight months pregnant and still gazing out of a rainy window, waiting for Ludwig. You still hadn't given up hope.
It was on one of these rainy days where a craving for peanut butter made you leave the house. Gilbert actually had to work, so you were on your own.
You were waddling home, dreaming about the jar of peanut butter under your arm. If you hadn't been so focused on your snack, you would have seen the man standing at the door of your apartment. You would've seen the tattered military jacket that had been washed and starched just for this moment. You would've seen a hopeful expression in his baby blue eyes. Seeing as you didn't, you walked straight into him.
"Crap," you whined. "My peanut butter!"
"I'm sorry," he stammered. " Vould you like some help?"
His accent stopped you cold. It was warm despite the chill outside. Your peanut butter was forgotten as you embraced what you had been craving since it left.
His smile was all the go ahead you needed. "I promised didn't I?"